Say Heaven, Say Hell
by CristinaHelena
Summary: Clary has been having weird dreams and flashbacks. She starts seeing things she shouldn't be seeing, things that shouldn't exist. Two nights at a club and two chance meetings with Jace Wayland later, her whole world is turned upside down. "She was imagining this whole thing. She had to be. For all she knew, the golden boy wasn't even real either." Slight OOC, some swearing.
1. Chapter 1: Angels vs Demons

**A/N: **Hi there! First off, thank you for clicking on the link to this story. I'm glad you're willing to give this fic a shot. It's my first FF so I'm a little nervous about posting it here. Please keep in mind this story is unbeta'ed and I'm not a native speaker of English. I apologize if my way of phrasing things is odd, please let me know if you come across something?

**Summary: **Clary has been having weird dreams and flashbacks. She starts seeing things she shouldn't be seeing, things that shouldn't exist. Two nights at a club and two chance meetings with Jace Lightwood later, her whole world is turned upside down. "She was imagining this whole thing. She had to be. For all she knew, the golden boy wasn't even real either." Slight OOC, some swearing.

Follows most of the TMI storyline, though some things are different... very different. I won't spoil what just yet, so please read ;-)

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to Cassandra Clare. I'm just messing with them for a bit.

**Say Heaven, Say Hell**

Chapter 1: Angels vs. Demons

Clary felt the thumping of the bass in her chest, the music becoming one with her body as she swayed her hips to the beat. She closed her eyes against the blinding club lights and lost herself in the raving sounds.

Her back was burning, hurting even, but nothing could keep her from enjoying this moment of freedom. She'd never felt this contented in her life before.

For a single moment, she thought of her mother and she could almost see her disappointed face on the inside of her eyelids. Actually, the image was a lot clearer than Clary wanted it to be.

She forced her eyes open again and took in the mass of bouncing bodies around her, as far as the flickering strobes would allow.

Pandemonium reeked of sweat and beer, not her favorite kind of scents, but she didn't mind; she was simply glad to be here. She didn't really understand why the gothic club appealed to her so much as she was hardly a goth. Maybe it was the fact that everybody here was different, unique... free to be themselves.

An arm wrapped around her waist and a muscular chest pushed against her back. A sharp pain shot through her body and she couldn't stop the hissing sound that escaped her. Refusing to let her night out get spoiled by a little pain, she adjusted her moves to fit the ones of the body behind her and threw her head back against the solid muscles of her dance partner.

She froze the moment she looked him in the eyes. No, not _him_ but _it_. She yelped and shoved the arm away, scared of the _thing_ that was holding her. She blinked and looked at the creature again, no longer seeing a skull with maggot filled eye sockets but noticing a handsome guy a few years her senior instead.

_Shit, this hallucinating thing is getting out of hand._

The stranger looked at her questioningly and Clary gave him a quick smile before turning and disappearing into the crowd. Maybe it was time for her to go home. She was getting a headache anyway, and she knew her mother would have questions if she stayed away much longer.

The DJ started a new mix and Clary couldn't resist moving her body along the droning beat. There was a sweet melody in strings, a soothing sound that made her close her eyes again, completely forgetting her decision to head home.

She raised her arms above her head, lifting her fiery red hair and a gentle breeze cooled the skin of her neck. Her lips curled into a contended smile, her body welcoming the change in temperature.

The moment of contentment was short-lived as a heavy weight crashed into her side and she found herself stumbling and almost falling to the sticky floor. Gross.

Fortunately, she caught herself on time, grasping the arm of some unknown person beside her to steady herself. The arm yanked away with force and she looked at the owner with a glare.

The glare turned into an amazed expression the moment she laid eyes on the angel in front of her. A gentle glow surrounded the entire body of the glorious creature in front of her. He wore the same expression as she had to be having; shock and amazement wrapped into one.

Her eyes watered and she knew she had to blink but somehow found herself unable to look away. Several seconds later, she could no longer force her body to obey her and she blinked several times. In a fraction of a second, the golden aura was gone and the guy was frowning at her, probably wondering why she was staring at him like a moron.

_Crap, another hallucination. _

Maybe she shouldn't have done this. Or rather, she never would have if she'd known of the heaven versus hell hallucinations she'd be experiencing before she went ahead with this stupid idea. A sharp pain shot through her head and she buried her face in her hands.

"Are you okay?" A hand wrapped around her wrist gently and urged her to drop her arm.

She did so and raised her head, stunned by the sight that greeted her. The glow may be gone but the guy, probably a few years older than her, still looked as close to an angel as humanly possible. His curly locks were golden blond, golden eyes surrounded by full and long lashes and his angular face was anything but gorgeous.

She nodded her head in reply to the stranger's question, realizing that she indeed was okay. Had been from the moment he touched her. Weird.

The blonde kept looking at her with a suspicious gleam in his eyes. He looked across her body, paying special attention to her arms and neck for some unknown reason, his gaze returning to her face with a questioning look.

"You can see me." He stated, confusing Clary even more.

_Like any female could not notice his hot appearance._

He smirked at her, his entire attitude shifting from distant to arrogant. "Why thank you, darling."

Apparently her verbal filter was suffering from her stupid plan, too. Clary's cheeks burned instantly and she didn't think she'd ever felt so embarrassed in front of a guy before. She looked down, hiding behind the curtain of red hair that fell in front of her face.

A hand rough with callus lifted her chin and the golden eyed guy was suddenly closer to her, a _whole lot_ closer. It was making her feel nervous and... excited. What was wrong with her?

He looked deep into her eyes and she found herself unable to look away, no matter how weird it made her feel. "You are not so bad yourself."

If she thought she couldn't turn a deeper shade of red, she was proven wrong by her traitorous body. She casted her eyes down and felt him move around her, away from her.

A breath she didn't know she'd been holding fell from her lips and she allowed herself to take in the world around her again. Somehow, she'd forgotten all about the club and people dancing around her.

_Home. I need to go home._

**A/N: I promise future chapters will be longer. Leave me a review, please? Constructive criticism is welcome.**


	2. Chapter 2: Dreams

**A/N: A big thank you to those who've read the first chapter of this fic and even bigger thanks to those who've added this to their favorites/follows. It truly means a lot. I realize every writer must say this but it truly does mean a lot.**

**Don't tell anyone but I felt as giddy as a 15 y/o meeting Jamie Campbell Bower, when I saw the email notifications of the review/follows/favorites the morning after posting the first chapter.**

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Cassandra Clare. I'm just messing with them for a bit.**

**Chapter 2: Dreams**

Clary awoke with a headache, feeling as if she hadn't had a single hour of sleep. She looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand and realized she'd gotten plenty of sleep so it made no sense for her to feel completely drained. Reluctantly, she dragged herself out of bed.

She groaned in pain as the cotton top she slept in stuck to the skin on her lower back, feeling like it ripped off the top layer of her skin when she moved. Carefully, she pulled the top off and walked over to the vanity her mom had bought for her when she was a kid.

Turning, she looked over her shoulder to inspect the source of the ache.

_Oh no! No, no, no, ..._

She cursed mentally, realizing the mark was still there. Red skin glared back at her in the mirror, the sides of the mark looking like severe burns. Oh god, how was she going to explain this to her mother? She'd kill her, have her explain how she got the mark in the first place and then kill her again.

At least, she added as an afterthought, it wasn't bikini season yet.

"Clary?" A heavy voice sounded through the door, followed by a knock. Luke.

Luke she could deal with... after she put on some clothes, that is. "Just a minute!"

Clary quickly grabbed a random shirt she found lying on a chair and slid into a pair of jeans. She looked in the mirror and rubbed away the mascara leftovers under her eyes, hastily running her hands through her hair afterward. Any evidence of last night needed to be gone - except for the mark, she could hardly undo that. She still had no idea how to explain it if anyone noticed it on her.

Perhaps Simon could help her. For some reason, he always knew how to deal with her mother. She nodded to herself, deciding she'd go over to his place as quickly as possible. But first, she had to get out of her room and act normal. Nothing happened last night. She was still the good little girl that listened to anything her mother said.

Taking a deep breath, Clary burst through her bedroom door and headed to the kitchen in the small apartment. "Morning, Luke." She greeted the man who might as well have been her father, who was now fixing himself a cup of coffee.

Luke was her mom's best friend. Clary's dad died when she was a toddler so she didn't have any memories of him. Luke had always been there for her whenever she needed a male role model. He'd even gone to parent-teacher meetings and joined her on bring-your-dad-to-school day. He was her father for all intents and purposes.

"Good morning, sleep well?" Luke said in return, looking at her. Did he look at her more intensely than usual or was that just her imagination?

"Sure." She shrugged as she filled a bowl with cereal, "Where's mom?"

"Out, delivering one of her paintings to a client."

"She sold another one of her paintings?" She asked, a smile on my face. Her mother created the most beautiful paintings and she'd always admired her for it. Clary could draw some herself, but nothing like the wonderful landscapes her mother painted. Whenever her mom showed her a new colorful canvas, she felt like she was allowed a glimpse into a secret fairytale world. "That's great!"

Luke nodded, a smile on his face as well, glowing with pride.

Clary finished my breakfast and dumped the now empty bowl into the sink. "Could you tell mom I'm at Simon's?" she asked Luke as she walked back to her room.

"Actually, I think she wanted to talk to you." Luke replied, as he followed Clary.

Her nerves were back instantly. "Well, she can reach me at Simon's. Besides, I'll be back for dinner." The longer she could postpone seeing her mom, the better it'd be. Clary knew she was only delaying the inevitable but she couldn't face her yet, her own shame getting the better of her.

Luke shot her a disapproving look but didn't stop her when she grabbed her bag and hurried to the front door, off to her best friend Simon's place.

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Clary was enjoying the moment of normalcy when Simon put the disc into the DVD player and settled onto the bed next to her. The intro of the movie started and they fell into silent companionship, both of them staring at the screen.

It wasn't long before her eyelids began to drop and she rested her head on Simon's shoulder. All the gore and lame special effects of the horror movie weren't enough of a distraction to keep her mind from wondering.

_She jolted awake and sat up in her bed, her breath labored, making her gasp for air. The same images kept flashing through her dreams, over and over again, for weeks in a row._

_Her mother writing signs on her arms when she walked into the bathroom at age four, the weird pen-like object her mother had been using to do it, and the same symbol she kept seeing in silver lines surrounded with a subtle glow advancing towards her until she woke up._

_She couldn't make sense of it all._

_She threw the covers off and appraised the cool air that touched her overheated skin. Her throat felt dry and she got out of bed, walking into the bathroom she'd seen in her dreams. A glass stood on the sink and she filled it, quickly downing the water in one go. She put the glass down again but misplaced it, hearing the glass shatter on the floor a mere second later._

_Cursing, Clary sank to the floor, grabbing the larger pieces of glass and gathering them in the sink. Just the kind of thing she wanted to be doing in the middle of the night. To make sure she had all the pieces, she leaned down and looked under the toilet table, finding a wooden box she'd never seen before instead._

_Frowning, she took the box and pulled it out of its hiding place. The box was decorated with the loveliest motives but what stood out most were the initials J.C. on the lid. Curiosity got the better of her and she opened the box._

_She gasped as she found the pen-shaped object she'd dreamed about. Was she still dreaming? She picked it up and noticed the glass tip, beginning to glow the moment she touched it. The sign she'd dreamed about flashed behind her eyelids and she quickly dropped the pen back in the box._

_What the...?_

_Not knowing what just happened, she shut the box and put it back where she'd found it. Having completely forgotten about the shattered glass, she caught her hand on one of the pieces and yanked it back, blood already dripping down her finger._

_She put her finger to her lips, sucking the blood off to avoid staining the bathroom rug and the symbol flashed through her mind again. Getting up from the floor, she hurriedly washed her hands and gathered the broken glass, tossing it in the trash bin. _

_Refusing to acknowledge what had happened, Clary fled back to her room and fell into a fitful sleep._

A gentle voice called her name and she felt someone shaking her lightly.

"Clary, wake up."

She opened her eyes and found herself looking into the deep brown eyes of her best friend. He smiled down at her and she removed her head off his shoulder, her neck protesting after having been in the same position for a while.

"Sorry I fell asleep."

Simon's expression turned from slightly amused to tender and she felt uncomfortable under his gaze for a moment.

_Don't be ridiculous, this is Simon._

"I'm glad you got some sleep. You've been looking like hell lately."

She resisted the urge to push him in the arm. "Geez, Simon, way to make a girl feel good about herself."

He gave her a goofy grin. "Sorry, it's true though."

"Yeah, yeah." Clary made a waving gesture as if waving the topic of her wonderful appearance away. "Shoot, what time is it? I promised to be home for dinner."

"It's almost five." Simon replied, sounding a little disappointed.

Clary gave him a sympathetic smile. "I'm really sorry for falling asleep on you."

Simon shrugged, "No worries. Who doesn't want to watch horror movies with your friend drooling all over your shoulder? I must say it adds a whole new dimension to the gore."

"Simon!" Clary exclaimed, finding a pillow and throwing it at him. Unfortunately, she missed by several feet.

Simon doubled over in laughter as Clary grabbed her things and left his room with a smile on her face. The smile disappeared the moment she realized she had to face her mother soon and she had forgotten to ask Simon about advice on how to handle the mark on her back.

**A/N: Want to make me feel giddy again? Please leave me a review (or leave Jamie Campbell Bower on my doorstep, your choice). Reviews fuel my creativity (more so than JCB, I must admit; he'd just distract me).**

**There will be more Clary/Jace next chapter. I'm a little ahead with my writing so for those who want a little teaser of chapter 3;**

_"I have no idea what you're babbling about but I don't remember giving you permission to touch me." Clary glared at him, yanking her arm free from his grasp._

_He moved closer to her, as close as possible without them touching one another, with that damn sexy smirk on his face. "You didn't seem to mind before."_

_He leaned down, closing the distance between them, staring at her so intently Clary thought he planned on kissing her. Her breath caught in her throat; her first kiss._

**Will they, won't they? You'll find out soon ;-)**


	3. Chapter 3: Creature of the Night

**A/N: A crazy muse attack and an unexpected day off from work allows me to present to y'all; chapter three. Thank you for adding this little fic of mine to your alerts and favorites, and a big thank you to WildHeart22, Jling and SpiritGoddass for having been kind enough to leave reviews.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own TMI, unfortunately.**

**Without further ado... Go Clace! Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 3: Creature of the Night**

"You will go to your room after dinner and that's it."

"But, mom-"

"This is not up for discussion. You may use the bathroom but other than that, you will stay in your room. You can't just stay out till whatever time you see fit. I'm your mother and you shall do as I say." Jocelyn, Clary's mother, finished.

"Okay, mom." Clary resigned. She was not looking forward to spending the evening in her room, but it would have to do. On the bright side; she'd been able to cover the stupid symbol on her back, so she hadn't had to explain that.

Clary refused to talk to her mother during the remainder of dinner, knowing she'd only say things she'd later regret. She was so tired of always being treated like a kid. Her mother wanted to keep her as sheltered as possible; she was rarely allowed to go out and when she'd asked her mom if she could go to a drawing course outside the city, the answer had been 'no'. Her mom was always afraid something would happen to her or she told Clary she was too young to understand the dangers lurking in the shadows.

Wordlessly, she retreated to her bedroom after dessert. She could hear her mom calling someone and later, the sound of the front door opening and closing. The murmuring of voices had Clary's interest peaked and she leaned against her bedroom door, hoping to listen in on the conversation.

"You can't keep doing this to her, Jocelyn. She's not Jonathan."

She easily identified the voice as Luke's.

"I know," her mother replied, "but I want to protect her. I don't want anything to happen to her, and I really don't want her do have anything to do with that world."

"You know I don't agree with that, but that's your call. I'm just saying if you keep treating her like this, you might end up losing her anyway. She's sixteen, a teenager. She wants to experience things. Keeping her locked up in this apartment isn't that."

Clary heard a heavy sigh and footsteps moving around the living room. Someone turned on the TV and soon the only thing she could hear were the sounds of a movie.

_Who is Jonathan?_

Clary flopped on her bed and grabbed the drawing pad off her nightstand. She lost herself in her sketches for a while, listening to music on her iPod, until she heard the front door again. The light steps of her mother moved around the apartment for a bit and soon the house was quiet. Looking at the clock, she realized it was close to midnight.

She went to the bathroom to get ready for bed but couldn't resist the urge to look under the toilet table. Relief washed over her when she spotted the wooden box and she took it out again. Careful not to make any noise, she took the pen out and put the box back in its place.

Back in her room, Clary forgot all about going to bed and stood in front of her mirror again. She inspected yesterday's mark, noticing it had faded during the day. Without thought, she put the pen to her skin again, this time on her hip.

The burn made her gasp but she expected it this time, making it easier to bear than last night. She drew the same symbol as the night before, the symbol that kept coming to her in her dreams. Even though she didn't understand what it meant or what the pen did to her body, Clary only knew that it felt right. It felt like a part of her, like this was what she was meant to be doing.

When the symbol was done, she hurried back to the bathroom and hid the pen again. Back in her room, she changed into an appropriate outfit - she could hardly go back to Pandemonium in her sweatpants - and she was out the door before she'd consciously made the decision to sneak out the house.

The moment she was on the street, moonlight casting down on her, she felt the same liberation as last night. She couldn't stop herself from picking up the pace, wanting nothing more than have a good time at the club again.

_And maybe see golden boy again, too._

Clary shook her head at her own thoughts, knowing it was very unlikely that would happen. Even if, she was hardly the kind of girl he'd be interested in.

_"You are not so bad yourself." _His voice echoed through her mind. She snorted to herself, glad no one was around to hear the unflattering sound.

With her red hair, bright as fire, and small figure without any of the curves any normal sixteen year old girl would have by now, she hardly got any attention of guys her age. She wished she had the beauty of her mother. She was given the same traits but all in much less flattering ways than her mom.

Her feet had taken her to the right street already and as she took the last few steps to the entrance of Pandemonium, Clary abandoned all her thoughts. She was here, she was going to enjoy the freedom.

For some unknown reason and similar to last night, the bouncer let her in without questions asked even though she wasn't old enough to be here. Once inside, the music swept her away and she soon found herself dancing on the crowded floor.

Her skin was already beginning to feel sticky with sweat, it seemed like it was much warmer in there today than yesterday. The DJ appeared to be the same though, the similar heavy beats filling the club and forcing her body to move in ways she normally wouldn't; sensual and free.

She couldn't stop her eyes from darting over the faces surrounding her, secretly hoping to find a pair of golden eyes among them. Refusing to be disappointed when she didn't find what she was looking for, she looked for the next best thing; a hot guy, preferably with golden hair. In the back of her mind she knew she hadn't had a thing for blondes up until last night but she quickly dismissed the thought.

A sense of déjà-vu washed over her when she felt someone move behind her. Their bodies weren't touching but she could feel the heat and her body tingled with electricity.

"Looking for me, angel?" The words were a soft whisper but spoken so closely to her, she felt his lips brush her ear. The loud music seemed to disappear, just as any other people around her.

Clary couldn't stop the smile that formed on her lips and turned to look at him. "You." She said, recognizing the golden boy.

"The one and only." He said, wearing that arrogant smirk again.

She felt her stomach tightening at the sight of it and it wasn't in a bad way. "I didn't expect to see you here." She'd hoped to see him here, sure, but she could hardly say that without sounding creepy.

He chuckled, "I didn't expect you to see me here either."

"So you keep saying." Clary remarked, still remembering his weird commend last night.

He raised his hand and cupped her face. "Can't say I'm not happy about it, though."

Clary's cheeks were instantly red and that nervous feeling combined with excitement filled her again. He pulled her closer to him and he slowly moved their bodies. Clary became aware of the fact they were still in the club and, was he...? Yes, she realized, he was dancing with her. Her body caught up with her mind and she moved along the rhythm he set.

He turned her and before she knew it, his arms were wrapped around her stomach and she got lost in the feelings she was experiencing. His hands started moving across her body, one of them sliding over the painful spot on her hip.

She grimaced and regrettably, he immediately let go of her.

"Are you injured?" He asked, grapping and lifting the hem of her top before she could stop him, exposing the marks. "Ah, you're not a mundane. You could've just told me, you know, instead of having me wonder why the invisibility rune wasn't working on you." The golden boy said, staring at her disapprovingly.

Clary was confused, not understanding a thing he said or the reason he was looking at her like her mom did sometimes. "Excuse me?" Her voice sounded unsteady.

He cocked an eyebrow at her, "What's your family name?"

"None of your damn business!" Clary exclaimed, now getting seriously pissed off with him.

"Mmh," he said coolly, "interesting surname. Must be from one of those European liberal Institutes. You use different runes, too, I see."

"What are you talking about?! Geez, you're a nut job." Clary turned and disappeared into the crowd, not knowing why she'd been hoping to see him again in the first place. What an annoying prick! And the things he said... Crazy!

"Where are your permanent marks?" He was behind her again and grabbed her wrist, spinning her around so fast she almost felt dizzy. He slid up the short sleeves of her top and without hesitation, Clary slapped him in the face.

He appeared just as shocked as Clary was, his golden eyes twinkling with amusement just a moment later. "Well done, no Shadowhunter of our generation has been able to catch me off guard before. No demon either, really."

"I have no idea what you're babbling about but I don't remember giving you permission to touch me." Clary glared at him, yanking her arm free from his grasp.

He moved closer to her, as close as possible without them touching one another, with that damn sexy smirk on his face. "You didn't seem to mind before."

He leaned down, closing the distance between them, staring at her so intently Clary thought he planned on kissing her. Her breath caught in her throat; her first kiss.

She blinked and suddenly he was further away, disappointment filling her. His eyes were searching the crowd, like he was looking for someone. "Come on," he said as he grabbed her hand, "I smell one."

Before Clary could ask what he meant, he was dragging her through the mass of moving bodies toward the back of the club.

There was a platform that was a bit higher and allowed its occupants to look over the dance floor. Golden boy - she still didn't know his name, she realized - pulled her up there and he searched the crowd again.

"Over there, I think." He nodded to a space left of her and, still having no idea what was going on, Clary shifted her eyes to the area he had indicated, hoping to make more sense of all of this.

Her eyes widened when she noticed the slimy, greenish creature. None of the people around it seemed to notice it as they happily continued dancing - or more like dry humping in some cases.

She turned to the golden boy, "Wha-"

"No time," he cut her off and his eyes quickly scanned her body, "where, in the Angel's name, do you keep your weapons in that outfit?"

"Weapons?" Her voice was nothing more than a high-pitched shriek, suddenly scared that the angelic guy was a lunatic, wanting to do seriously messed up things to her... if not kill her.

He rolled her eyes at her, shaking his head in disbelief. "Why would you come here and _not_ bring any weaponry?" He bent down and lifted his black leather pants a little, pulling some kind of knife out of his boot. "Here, " he said as he pushed the blade in her hands, "let's kill this thing."

He was gone before she knew it, heading into the direction of the moving pile of blubber she'd seen before. The hallucinations of last night, she thought, she was imagining this whole thing. She had to be. For all she knew, the golden boy wasn't even real either. She was hallucinating again. That _had_ to be it.

Still standing on the platform, frozen in shock, she searched for the golden locks. She found him rather quickly and noticed how he advanced on the creature, with an almost animal-like grace. Like a hunter.

What was she doing here? She shouldn't have snuck out, shouldn't have used that stupid pen again...

Golden boy kicked the creature, then fell as if the slime monster had sucked his leg into its body, twisting so the golden boy turned onto his stomach. The green blob started to move over the guy's body until he pulled some kind of weird glowing blade from under his clothes and stabbed into the amorphous shape.

"Higher!" Clary yelled, unable to stop herself. "Stab it higher."

Golden boy's head jerked up and he looked at her, frowning for a moment but doing as she said anyway, right as creature tried to cover golden boy's arm, stretching out its form. A sound of agony reached Clary's ears, a sound so piercing and scary she could only describe it as hell. Then, suddenly, the slimy thing was gone.

She wanted to move, wanted to get out of here but she was frozen in fear, all her muscles so tense she couldn't order her body to move. Below her, golden boy got up and wiped his hands on his pants before looking at her and heading back over to the platform.

What was he? What was that _thing_?

He stood before her, gently pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You don't _know_, do you?"

She tried to reply but no sound came out of her throat.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that. Come on," he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and gently urging her forward. Her legs moved with the pressure and slowly, she let him guide her toward the exit of the club, "let's get you home."

Feeling cold, she crossed her arms over her chest. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she noticed the arm around her shoulders disappearing but not long after she felt fabric replacing it. She glanced beside her. Golden boy had taken off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders.

For the first time, she noticed his tattoos. They covered parts of his arms, some disappearing under his shirt and reappearing above the shirt's collar. Even though she felt like she was walking around in a daze, a clear feeling of attraction filled her. Huh. She'd never found tattoos appealing before.

"Who are you?" She finally breathed out.

Golden boy grinned at her, apparently happy she'd said anything at all. "I'm Jace Wayland. Nice meeting you, ... "

"Clary. Clary Fray."

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**A/N: Finally, he has a name! Surprise, surprise - except not really.**

**I find Jace really hard to write because he's just so unlike anyone I know (not to mention Cassandra Clare did such an amazing job). But I love me a good challenge and honestly, it's really liberating to write for characters that are so different from what you know, so I ended up having the most fun yet, writing this chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know if you did (or maybe didn't)?**

**See ya soon!**


	4. Chapter 4: Discoveries

**A/N: I started a new job, which proves to be quite a challenge. It's a fun challenge, but also an exhausting one, lol. I still found some time to write about one of my favorite duo's, so I give you chapter four of this little fic of mine. I'm probably going to have to change the pace of my updates, probably keeping it to one new chapter a week... sorry.**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, my new job isn't me being a writer and suddenly owning TMI.**

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**Chapter 4: Discoveries**

Clary didn't realize they'd stopped walking until Jace lightly bumped her shoulder with his. "Left or right?"

She looked around them, taking in the surroundings. "Left."

When she made no move to walk into the right direction, Jace wrapped his arm around her shoulder again and guided her down the road.

They walked mostly in silence, the few words they exchanged being directions on how to get to Clary's house.

Clary found herself unable to break free from the stupor she was in. It seemed as if she was walking around in a dream and she could be waking up any moment now. What she'd seen couldn't be real.

That thing, Jace killing it, the dreams, the gross skull creature she'd seen the night before... What was happening?

"Do you have a key or did you just jump out the window?" Jace's voice broke her from her thoughts and she shook her head as if to shake her current thoughts away. She noticed she'd led them up the path to her home without realizing any of it.

"No key or no jumping?" Jace asked, confusing Clary. He must have noticed her frown and placed his hands on her upper arms, bending a little to look her in the eye. "Clary, do you have a key?"

For a moment, she lost herself into those golden eyes until she suddenly remembered she'd forgotten to take her keys with her.

"No. No, I forgot."

A small smile graced Jace's lips. "You're not all that good at this sneaking out thing, are you?"

Not knowing if she should feel offended at his comment, Clary shrugged his hands off and took a step backwards. If Jace noticed, he didn't let on. He walked back into the street and looked up at the building.

"What floor are you on?"

"Second floor," Clary replied, pointing up toward a window, "that's my bedroom, over there."

"Good. This would have been a whole lot harder had you lived a few levels higher."

Before Clary could ask what he'd meant, Jace was running straight at the building, jumping up when he almost hit the wall. As if it took him no effort at all, he placed his feet on the narrow windowsill, balancing his weight.

"Jace!" Clary exclaimed, half-stunned, half-scolded, as he slipped off the ledge and fell down. Worry filled her, washing away any remnants of the numbness she'd been experiencing.

His laughter filled the air as he hung on the windowsill, having been able to grab onto it with both hands.

Clary hurried towards the building, standing several feet below Jace's dangling body. "Oh my god! Are you insane?!" She semi-whispered, becoming aware of the fact it was the middle of the night and they were technically trying to break into her bedroom.

"You seem really intent on calling me crazy." His words turned into grunts as Jace lifted his body on one arm, the other blindly searching around the edge of the windowsill. Clary heard the wood creak as he slid her bedroom window open.

The high shriek she let out when Jace let himself drop to the floor was embarrassing and she blushed at his smirk.

"Come on." He grabbed her hand and pulled her with him, walking back to the street. He dropped her hand when they stood in the same spot from where he'd run before and gestured toward her window. "Ladies first."

"What?" Clary didn't know if she had to call the loony bin to check if they were missing a golden haired patient or if she had to check herself in for still hallucinating. He was not suggesting what she thought he was, right?

"Don't worry, you can do it." Jace reassured her, "If it'll make you feel better, I'll stand below the window to catch you - not that it'll be necessary."

"I can't jump up there!"

Jace stepped in front of her, cupping her face with both hands, golden eyes staring into her green ones intently. "Trust me. You can do this. It's in your blood."

"My blood?" Clary's voice was barely more than a whisper, unable to turn away from him.

"Yes, it's a long story, I'll explain later. But please, trust me? You'll be fine. You can do this. You were _born_ to do this."

Funny enough, Clary found herself indeed trusting this stranger in front of her. She could tell Jace meant her no harm. He might be crazy and suggest crazy things, but he seemed to know what was going on. Yes, she trusted him.

She pulled back from him, breaking their eye contact, mumbling an agreement. "But you are going to stand right there," she said, pointing toward the spot below the window, "and I swear to god, if I get injured, I'll kill you."

He smirked - something he seemed to do a lot, she noticed - and walked backwards toward the building, never stopping looking at her. "I'm sure you will, darling."

The nickname incited a response in her stomach that she refused to acknowledge as she took a deep breath and braced herself, ignoring the voice inside her head that told her this was her stupidest idea yet.

Without a second thought, she started running, flinging herself forward as she jumped. She resisted the urge to close her eyes, not really wanting to see what would happen but not wanting to experience this blind either.

The concrete wall was approaching her fast but she felt free, like flying. There was still enough force in her jump to lift her higher... until she realized it wouldn't be high enough for her entire body to fit through the open window.

_Oh, shit._

A mere second later, she landed half inside, half outside. The wood of the windowsill was pressing into her stomach uncomfortably, one of her hands was stuck between her body and the wooden ledge, and her legs still dangled outside the building quite ungracefully. Clary quickly moved her body to slide forward, landing on her bedroom floor with a thump and her ass sticking up in the air.

She heard a sound much softer than her loud thud and rolled over, looking over at the window. Jace had landed on the window ledge in a crouch, holding onto the wood, that smirk of his still in place.

"If you wanted to know my opinion about your ass, you could've just asked."

Clary sat up, "Geez, are you always this-," a sharp pain shot through her wrist as she leaned on it, making her gasp and cradle her hand against her chest.

Jace was beside her within a second. "You're hurt," he stated, the worry in his voice seemed sincere, surprising Clary. She had almost been convinced he was nothing but a pretentious, self-centered, sex obsessed bastard. "Let me see."

He carefully touched her lower arm with one hand, using his other to support her hand. Sliding his hand up her arm toward her hand, Clary hissed as he touched her wrist. "Your wrist is broken."

"You're a doctor, too, now? It can't be broken. What would I tell my mom?" Clary said, shaking her head in denial as if it would make the broken wrist go away.

"I've had enough bones broken to recognize it. No need to worry, though." Jace reached into his pocket and dug out a pen similar to the one Clary had used to draw the symbols on her body. Her eyes widened in surprise when he placed it against her skin, just above her wrist.

"This will hurt." He announced quietly, quickly glancing at her before focusing on her wrist again. He drew a mark, similar to the one she'd drawn herself but not quite the same. The pain, however, was very much the same and she bit her lip to keep herself from making a sound.

The iron taste of blood filled her mouth not too long after and as she closed her eyes, she saw another flash of a mark. It appeared to be the same one Jace was burning into her skin at the moment. She forced her eyes open again, looking down at her arm nervously. If Jace was indeed drawing the symbol she'd seen, he wasn't even halfway done yet.

_-c-l-a-c-e- -c-l-a-c-e- -c-l-a-c-e- -c-l-a-c-e- -c-l-a-c-e- _

Groaning, Clary opened her eyes and realized she was lying on her bed. She blinked a few times, letting her eyes adjust to the lack of light, and spotted Jace in the corner of her room, sitting on the floor. For a moment, she thought he was surrounded by that gentle glow again but it was gone just as quickly.

He rose from his spot in a graceful, fluent movement Clary envied, walking toward the bed and sitting down on the edge of the mattress. "You passed out."

"I'm... sorry?" Clary said, for some reason feeling like she had to apologize for not being able to deal with the pain, apparently.

Jace chuckled. "No worries, I know I'm hard to resist," he gestured up and down his body, "You're not the first to be overwhelmed by all this handsomeness."

She playfully punched him in the shoulder, realizing too late that she used her injured arm. However, the dull ache that shot through her wrist was nothing compared to the pain she'd felt before. She stared at her arm in amazement. It was still swollen and bruised but she could move her hand without feeling like passing out again.

"Pretty amazing, isn't it?" Jace broke her thoughts, drawing her eyes to his face. His expression was a mixture of amusement and something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Instead of the smirk she was so used to by now, he was smiling down at her sincerely. She hadn't seen him this... unguarded since they'd met.

"Will you tell me what's going on?" Clary asked, trying to sit up using only her good arm.

"Only if you keep lying down," Jace replied, "your first marks burn a lot of your energy. Your body isn't used to them yet."

Clary narrowed her eyes at his lecturing tone but halted her attempts to sit up. Instead, she leaned back down and patted the mattress next to her. "Make yourself comfortable."

Jace seemed eager to do so, scooting over her body to the other side of her bed. He leaned against the headboard and flopped his legs on her bed.

"Don't put your boots on my bed." Clary scolded and Jace rolled his eyes, but leaned down to take his boots off nonetheless.

He took a few blades out of his shoes first, carefully placing them on her nightstand before dropping his boots unceremoniously onto the floor. Clary wondered for a moment if it would've woken up her mother. She decided the sound of boots dropping wouldn't make a difference, if her mom had managed to sleep through all that happened tonight.

"There," Jace stated, "any other articles of clothing you'd like me to remove? You know you only have to ask."

She rolled her eyes at his question yet she couldn't keep herself from smiling. She had a feeling life would never be dull with Jace around. Frowning, she halted her own thoughts. Having Jace around? No need to get ahead of the situation, she hardly knew the guy.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked and she shook her head against her pillow.

"Nothing. You were going to tell me what's happening."

Jace took a deep breath. "I'm gonna give you the Reader's Digest version, okay? The whole story would take too long and I promise I'll tell you some time but now, I just want you to get some rest as soon as possible."

He looked at her pointedly before continuing, "All the fairytales and myths you've heard about? They're true. Werewolves, vampires, fairies... They all exist. As well as demons. That thing you saw me kill in Pandemonium?"

When he seemed to wait for confirmation she still remembered - like she could forget - Clary nodded at him. "Well, that was a demon. I'm a Shadowhunter and we kill demons to protect mundanes - humans, I mean."

"And people can't see you?" Clary asked, remembering Jace's comments from earlier.

"They can, unless I use an invisibility rune." He raised his arm and pointed at one of the marks, "I always use one when I'm out, hunting demons."

"But why can I see you then?"

Jace smiled gently at her, as if she was a child and he was about to tell her the Easter bunny didn't exist. "Because you're like me, Clary. You're a Shadowhunter."

Clary looked up at him, not believing what he'd just said. "What? No, I can't be."

"I know it's a lot to take in, but trust me when I say you're a Shadowhunter. The runes wouldn't have worked on you otherwise. You wouldn't have been able to jump into your room. You wouldn't have seen what you saw tonight."

Clary shook her head, unable to form any words to protest what he said. It couldn't be true.

"It's okay," Jace's voice was soft and gentle, "Get some sleep."

At the mention of sleep, she felt her eyelids turn heavy and closed them. She felt the mattress shift and she forced her eyes open again, grabbing Jace's arm.

"Stay." She whispered, pleaded. For some reason, she couldn't stand the thought of him leaving her alone.

Jace nodded and he let himself fall back onto the mattress wordlessly. He slid down a bit, getting into a more comfortable position than before.

As her eyes closed again, he gently brushed her fiery hair out of her face, "Goodnight, Clary."

"G'night." She mumbled in return, no longer having the energy to pronounce the word properly.

The room turned quiet and she was about to fall asleep when Jace broke the silence. "I like it, by the way." He said.

"Like what?" She asked, her voice heavy with sleep.

She could hear the smile in his voice when he replied, "Your ass."

She felt the smile on her own face as she drifted off into a sleep filled with dreams of golden hair and golden eyes.

_-c-l-a-c-e- -c-l-a-c-e- -c-l-a-c-e- -c-l-a-c-e- -c-l-a-c-e- _

**A/N: Love it? Hate it? Let me know, please?**


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